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the grimy human who had to beg for jobs and satisfy himself with scraps of food and ragged clothes, all the while waiting for Zeus’s assassins to slaughter him at night.
    His hair was no longer black. It was once again the pure white of the gods and it contrasted sharply with his black clothes.
    Azura handed him a sword and whip. “Not the ones you were used to, but I think you’ll find them to your liking.”
    He felt the life blood of the universe in the blade. It hummed like a living being. “What is this?”
    â€œIt was forged from the pit of the Source. The very essence of the universe is inside it. That blade will cut through anything. More to the point, it will cut through any one. ”
    He ran his finger along the edge, appreciating the sharpness of it. Hissing, he saw the bead of blood that welled up. Blood that quickly evaporated as his body healed itself.
    Like that of a god.
    More to the point, the blade absorbed his blood as if it were feeding on it.
    â€œYou will have to feed the sword regularly,” Azura explained, dragging one nail down the blade. “The sword requires fresh blood to thrive. With it, you can kill Zeus and absorb his powers.” She paused and met his gaze with one as hungry as his soul that begged for justice. “You could be king of the Olympian gods.… Imagine, Cratus. All of them prostrate to you.”
    He curled his lip at her words. “Cratus is dead,” he said in a guttural tone. “My name is Jericho.”
    She laughed. “I could think of no better name for you. Cursed and reduced to ashes. And like the mighty Phoenix, you’re rising out of the destruction of your past to rain fury down on those who cursed you.”
    And he would relish bathing in their blood. The sword in his hand would never go hungry so long as he wielded it.
    Azura stepped back. “For now, you will command my army of Skoti. We want to neutralize Olympus and use their gods of sleep to attack the ones we need to control.”
    â€œConsider it done.” He was more than willing to throw Zeus and his crew to the wolves. They deserved it and more for all their cruelty.
    A flash of light almost blinded him. Raising one arm to shield his eye, he frowned as the black mist formed into the only being he knew to be more evil than Azura.
    Noir.
    Tall and dark with black hair and eyes, Noir exuded supreme merciless power. Even Jericho had to admit he was handsome in a way only the gods were. But this was one of the first beings created.
    Or more likely in Noir’s case, the first being spawned.
    Dressed in ornate burgundy armor, Noir wore a dark red cloak that was trimmed in gold. Noir’s cold gaze narrowed on Jericho until it went from him to Azura.
    â€œCongratulations, little sister.”
    â€œI told you I could convince him to our side.”
    Noir inclined his head to her. “And I’ve scored another haul from the other side.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œSee for yourself.” He spread his hand to show her in his palm a dark hole where a group of Oneroi were lying in utter misery.
    Jericho expected the sight to make him supremely happy. But as he looked at their torture and damaged bodies, an unwanted wave of sympathy went through him.
    Why?
    He couldn’t imagine. The gods knew they’d never had mercy where he was concerned. More times than not, they’d laughed as they killed him. But as he scanned the prisoners, one in particular caught his eye.
    Without thinking, he took a step forward.
    Azura snapped her attention to him. “You see something you like?”
    Jericho turned away from the woman whose face he couldn’t even make out. He didn’t know why she’d called out to him. It was another stupid move on his part. “No.”
    â€œThen I’ll have one of my servants show you to your new accommodations. I think you’ll find them much more to your taste than the hovel you were living